


open up your plans

by alotofthingsdifferent



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, cabin life, summertime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6285328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alotofthingsdifferent/pseuds/alotofthingsdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They only have an hour left here, an hour left of the best summer they’ve ever spent together. An hour left of high school  and playing hockey together, of parties and girlfriends and breakups and makeups. </p>
<p>One hour, and Nick doesn’t know how to say goodbye, not when all he wants to do is ask Brandon to stay</p>
            </blockquote>





	open up your plans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [morphosyntactic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphosyntactic/gifts).



> For the prompt "summer reunion." I hope you enjoy!

“I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” Nick says quietly, knocking his knee against Brandon’s where their legs are dangling over the edge of the dock. There’s only a breath of space between them, the thick heat of late summer hanging in the air. 

They’d spent the night before lying on their backs in the grass, covered in bug spray and staring up at the stars, talking about Brandon’s upcoming move to study abroad and Nick’s plan to play hockey for the rest of his life. Nick fell asleep with his face pressed in Brandon’s shoulder, and when they woke up, Brandon smiled lazily and didn't even complain that Nick was drooling on him.

It felt like a beginning, when they were already so close to the end.

“It’s gonna be weird,” Brandon says, and Nick nods in agreement, rocking forward on the heels of his hands where they’re planted on the dock. The lake water ripples around his ankles, and he breathes out. 

Brandon’s shoulders are summer-tan, the bridge of his nose pink with just a hint of sunburn. 

They’ve been best friends since the 8th grade, and Nick isn’t ready to say goodbye. 

They’ve been building up to this, Nick knows. He’s felt it all summer, seen it in the way Brandon’s smile has changed from goofy to shy, in the stolen glances they’ve shared over beers they snuck from the refrigerator in the garage. Weekends at the cabin turned into weeks, now that they were old enough -- _college-aged_ , Nick almost can’t believe it -- that their parents trusted them enough to leave them to their own devices. 

This moment feels huge suddenly, like something Nick knows he’s going to remember, something he’s going to play over in his head until the details blur at the edges and the memory fades with time and distance. “I’m gonna miss you,” he admits, and though it’s only a whisper, he feels the words echo in his ears, carried across the water by the light evening breeze. 

“Gettin’ all emotional on me, Leds?” Brandon asks, but Nick knows, he can hear it in Brandon’s voice that he’s only teasing. Nick has a brief moment of panic that maybe he’s been wrong this whole time, maybe Brandon’s feelings haven’t changed, maybe nothing’s changed at all. 

And then Brandon brushes their hands together, sucks in a shaky breath, and threads his fingers into the spaces between Nick’s. “I’m gonna miss you too,” he says, and when Nick turns to looks at him, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, Brandon’s already looking back. 

It feels natural to lean in then, to touch his lips to Brandon’s jaw. He's close enough that he can see the way Brandon’s eyelashes flutter when he closes his eyes, and then they're kissing, and not even the awkward click of teeth can ruin the moment.

There’s sweat beading at Nick’s temples, and he can’t help the noise of surprise he makes when Brandon curls his fingers into the thick hair at Nick’s nape. Brandon smiles then, Nick can feel it against his own mouth, and they both relax, the nervous tension disappearing, replaced by a desperate, giddy heat that Nick can feel all the way down to his toes. 

When they finally break apart, Brandon shifts closer and tucks his face into Nick’s neck, making it easy for Nick to slide an arm around his middle, drawing lazy circles on the warm skin of Brandon’s side. “I’m leaving tomorrow,” Brandon says quietly, the words muffled against Nick’s throat.

They only have an hour left here, an hour left of the best summer they’ve ever spent together. An hour left of high school and playing hockey together, of parties and girlfriends and breakups and makeups. 

One hour, and Nick doesn’t know how to say goodbye, not when all he wants to do is ask Brandon to stay.

“Can’t believe you kissed me when I have to leave in an hour,” Brandon says, his grin hot against Nick’s neck. 

“Can’t believe you kissed back,” says Nick, and Brandon lifts his head, aiming his crooked smile right at Nick. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to kiss me all summer, Leddy,” he says. “Of course I kissed you back.”

There’s nothing to do then but kiss Brandon again, and again, until they’re laid out on their sides on the dock, their legs tangled together, both of them hard in their swim trunks. When Nick finally can’t take it anymore, he rolls Brandon onto his back and throws a leg over both of Brandon’s, sucking in a breath when his dick rubs against Brandon’s hip. 

Brandon’s chest rises and falls rapidly under Nick’s hand. His mouth is red and slick, and Nick can’t look away, can’t believe how quickly time is slipping away from them. 

“Last chance, Leds,” Brandon says, breathless, and when he wriggles his hips, Nick drags his shaky hand lower and tucks his fingers into the waistband of Brandon’s trunks. The skin there is soft and smooth, hot to the touch, and Nick wishes he could take his time, burn the memory of every inch of Brandon’s skin into his brain so he doesn’t forget what this felt like. “C’mon,” Brandon urges, and when he shifts, Nick’s fingers touch his cock. 

“Oh my god,” Nick breathes, at the same time Brandon groans, and he works his hand lower, his palm sliding along Brandon’s length until he wraps his fingers around it, jerks Brandon once, twice, slow and easy. Brandon’s biting his lip, his eyes screwed shut and his face turned to the side. “Brandon,” Nick says softly, and Brandon’s mouth falls open on a gasp when Nick rubs his thumb in a slow circle over the head of Brandon’s dick. 

Nick rolls his hips, and the pressure against his cock sends shocks of heat up his spine. Brandon’s panting now, soft little puffs of breath that Nick can feel on his face when he ducks in to mouth at Brandon’s neck. 

“I’m gonna --” Brandon manages, just before his dick starts pulsing in Nick’s hand. Nick kisses him, slowing the movement of his hand but leaving it tucked into Brandon’s shorts while they kiss. He’s achingly hard against Brandon’s hip, but it doesn’t matter, not when he just made Brandon come, not when his mouth is on Brandon’s and Brandon’s snaking a hand down the back of his trunks, digging his fingers into the swell of Nick’s ass. 

“Can you get off like this?” Brandon asks against his mouth, pulling Nick closer. His dick slides along the groove of Brandon’s hip, and he shudders, heat coiling low in his belly. He wants Brandon’s hand on him, his mouth, maybe, but there’s no time, they’re running out, and he’s close, anyway, so close that when Brandon’s fingers dip between his cheeks, he comes right then, his toes curling and his heart in his throat. 

When he’s finally caught his breath, he mumbles, “You’re getting your hand on my dick next time,” and feels Brandon go tense next to him. He realizes, then, that there might not be a next time. Brandon’s leaving the country in twelve hours, and Nick doesn’t even know when they’ll see each other again.

“Yeah,” Brandon says quietly, then clears his throat. Nick’s own throat is tight when Brandon says, “Next time.”

**  
 _America!_

_are you back on US soil?!_

_just landed. can’t believe i’m home._

_still on for tomorrow, right?_

_driving up first thing. have my fishing pole ready._

_you’ve never fished a day in your life._

_i’ve CHANGED, leddy. you’ll see._

_Yeah,_ Nick doesn’t say. _That’s what I’m afraid of._

**  
The sound of tires on the gravel wakes Nick from where he’s dozing on the deck. He hadn’t slept much the night before, just tossed and turned and wondered what it was going to be like, seeing Brandon for the first time since the end of last summer.

It’s just June now, and the summer heat hasn’t quite arrived, but it’s perfect cabin weather, and what better place than here to have his long-awaited reunion with his best friend, Nick thought a few weeks ago, and when he brought the idea up to Brandon, he said yes without needing any convincing.

Now that the moment is here, Nick’s heart is racing. He wipes his sweaty palms on his track pants and fiddles with the strings on his hoody, his knee bouncing nervously. They’ve talked a lot through the last nine months, sure, but having an ocean between them meant different time zones, and different majors meant different goals, which meant different schedules, which meant -- well, keeping up a best friendship long distance was a lot of work.

He wonders if Brandon looks the same, if he’s grown into his gangly arms and sharp nose. Nick himself has bulked up -- college hockey is no joke -- and his hair is a little shorter. He’s working on a beard, too, something that started at school and just kind of -- kept going, and while it’s still pretty weak, it makes him feel older and gives him a weird confidence he can’t remember having at the beginning of the year.

He’s so lost in his own thoughts that he doesn’t hear Brandon come up until he clears his throat, and he looks up sharply, his heart still racing. Where Nick’s hair is shorter, Brandon’s is longer, curling around his ears. He looks taller somehow, older, but the crooked smile is familiar, and the blue eyes looking back at him are so Brandon that Nick has to take a minute to collect himself.

“Hey, stranger,” Brandon says, and god, Nick _missed_ him. He’s not sure what to do, if he should get up and hug Brandon or if he should grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him down into his lap. He wants to do both.

He wants everything.

He doesn’t know, though, what Brandon’s thinking, or if whatever they had that last day of summer is still there. They never talked about it, and save for a few “i miss you so much” texts when they were both drunk, they’d both done an excellent job of hiding their hands from one another. 

“You’re here,” Nick says, like he almost can’t believe it, and he does get to his feet then, crosses the short distance between them and stops in front of Brandon, hesitating for the count of two before mumbling, “C’mere, idiot,” and pulling Brandon in for a tight hug. 

“Missed you,” Brandon admits, and Nick fists in hands in the back of Brandon’s shirt, breathing him in. 

“Missed you too,” he says, and when Brandon tries to pull away, Nick just hauls him back in. Brandon laughs, and Nick breathes out, giving him one last tight squeeze before letting go.

“What’s this?” Brandon asks, gesturing at Nick’s face. “And where did you get those shoulders?”

Nick’s stomach somersaults, and he looks at his feet, grinning like an idiot through the blush on his cheeks. “Shut up,” he says. “I half expected you to come back with an English accent, I’m disappointed.” He looks up again, meets Brandon’s eyes. “I like the hair, though.”

“Yeah?” Brandon says, running a hand through it. “Thinking about cutting it.”

“You shouldn’t,” Nick says quickly, and when Brandon smirks, adds, “I mean, you know.” He shrugs. “It looks good.”

They stand there in silence for longer than feels comfortable, until Nick finally clears his throat and offers to help Brandon in with his things. “I mean, if you’re planning on staying.”

“‘Course I am,” Brandon says, shoving at Nick’s shoulder. “What did you think?”

_That you forgot about last summer_ , Nick thinks. _That I missed my chance._ He doesn’t say any of it. 

They carry Brandon’s things in in silence, and Nick can’t help the flicker of hope that blooms in his chest when Brandon stops just outside Nick’s bedroom door for a second, like he’s considering, before tossing his bag in the bedroom across the hall. 

“C’mon,” Brandon says, shoving at Nick’s shoulder. “Let’s go fishing.” 

Nick already has the poles ready.

**

After two hours, they still haven’t caught anything. The snacks Nick packed are almost gone, and Nick’s too hot in his hoodie, the back of his neck wet with sweat.

“I thought you were good at this,” Brandon mumbles, and Nick kicks at his ankle. 

“Hey, you’re the one who told me you _changed_ , B,” Nick says. “So prove it.”

Brandon hmphs in annoyance, but when his bobber starts to sink, he sits up straight, his eyes lighting up. He yanks back on the pole, turning the reel as he goes, and grins brightly when his catch flops onto the floor of boat, spraying water at their feet.

“See?” he says triumphantly, and Nick bursts out laughing before he can help himself. “What?” Brandon asks with frown. It’s not until he looks at what he reeled in that he starts laughing himself, and once he starts, neither of them can stop.

“It looks like -- a minnow!” Nick manages between fits of laughter, and Brandon covers his face with his hands to muffle his own giggles. 

“Ok, so it’s not gonna feed us both,” he says, and Nick’s shoulders shake he’s laughing so hard. 

“You sure have changed, B,” he says, still chuckling as he unhooks the fish and throws it back.

“Leds,” Brandon says suddenly, and Nick looks up, swallowing when their eyes meet. The boat suddenly seems much smaller than it did a few minutes ago. Their knees are almost touching from where they’re facing one another, Nick on one bench and Brandon on the other, and Nick knows it’s not just the hoodie that’s making him sweat right now. “Not that much has changed.”

Nick doesn’t say anything. The boat rocks lightly in the wake of a passing jet ski, and they’re still staring at each other.

“I still --” Brandon says, at the same time Nick says, “Can I --”

It breaks whatever weird tension has been hanging between them since Brandon pulled up, and makes it a lot easier for Nick to stay calm when Brandon puts a hand on his knee and squeezes.

“I missed you,” he says, and when he leans in closer, his hand drifts up Nick’s thigh. “I don’t want to waste another summer working up to the place we left off.”

Nick smiles and covers Brandon’s hand with his own. “When did you get so mature?” He asks.

“One of us has to be,” Brandon teases, and catches Nick’s wrist in his hand when Nick goes to swat at him. He laces their fingers together and kisses Nick’s knuckles, his eyes never leaving Nick’s for a second. It’s cheesy and dramatic, and Nick wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“You sayin’ you wanna be with me, Saader?” Nick asks, trying to keep the tone light even though he’s a mess of nerves inside. 

“I’m sayin,” Brandon says, and then takes a deep breath. “I’m saying I’m in love with you, Nick. I have been since you kissed me on that damn dock last year.”

Nick’s smiling so hard it hurts, and he doesn’t even care how sappy it is, he’s never been happier in his entire _life_. 

“Just gonna leave me hangin’?” Brandon asks, and Nick kisses him before he can say another word. It’s just like he remembered it, only so much better because this time, he knows where he stands.

“I love you too,” he says between kisses, and Brandon laughs, grabbing Nick by the collar of his hoodie and shaking him a little. “You wanna go back? I’m sweating to death.”

“Mm,” Brandon says, nosing at Nick’s jaw and pressing a kiss so the soft spot beneath his ear. “Yeah. You can show me those shoulders you’re hiding under there.”

He plucks at Nick’s hoody, and Nick blushes -- he can’t help it -- and starts the motor. 

**

“Fuck,” Nick pants, staring at the ceiling, one arm flung out beside him and the other still trapped beneath Brandon. There’s a thin sheen of sweat covering his entire body, and it’s not from the mid-day sun spilling into the bedroom. 

“Again?” Brandon teases, splaying his fingers out over Nick’s belly as he rolls onto his side. There’s come drying on Nick’s skin, both his and Brandon’s, and he closes his eyes when Brandon’s lips touch his neck. 

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” Nick asks, yelping when Brandon bites him.

“If someone hadn’t waited until literally the _last day of summer_ to --” 

Nick cuts him off with a kiss, long and slow and lingering, and Brandon relaxes into it, humming happily when Nick threads his fingers through Brandon’s hair. “Doesn’t matter,” Nick says. “We’re here now, right?”

“Mm,” Brandon says in agreement, his cheek resting on Nick’s chest. His breathing evens, and it’s not long before he’s snoring lightly, dozing next to Nick in the sunlight. 

Nick knows summer won’t last forever. It’ll end again, just like last time, and it’s possible they’ll have to go their separate ways -- Nick doesn’t know Brandon’s plans yet, hasn’t had time to ask. Brandon’s his until then, though, and probably after, too, if Nick has anything to say about it. There’s a lot to be said for summer reunions, anyway.


End file.
